Unsuitable
by mystiri1
Summary: One-shot. Tifa's not planning to be alone all her life. But finding someone to be with shouldn't be this hard, should it?


Men, Tifa had decided, were almost more trouble than they were worth.

She'd long since given up on Cloud. Her interest in him when they were back in Nibelheim had stemmed mostly from the fact that he was leaving – and that was exactly what she wanted to do. Not to be stuck in Nibelheim, raising kids and keeping house for some dull tradesman who'd never given a thought to what lay beyond the small town's boundaries. His dreams of becoming a SOLDIER sounded exotic and exciting, and she'd yearned for that.

Then everything had gone wrong, and she'd found herself a long way from Nibelheim with a grudge against ShinRa and the need to make her own way in the world. She'd lucked into the means to satisfy both with Seventh Heaven. Tifa had been running the bar in a matter of months, Barrett's mind on other things, and before long, was part of AVALANCHE, too. That had taken some persuading, but the first time she'd used Master Zangan's teachings to break up a bar fight, men had stopped looking at her like she was helpless and started treating her with respect. That kind of thing was addictive.

Cloud returning confused things. He bore the bright eyes of a SOLDIER, and no love for ShinRa, so she'd set to recruiting him for AVALANCHE. But he was so detached from everything, and at times the things he spoke of puzzled her. Still, she remembered a promise of rescue. Cloud wasn't quite the white knight she'd hoped for, but close enough.

It took most of the long journey to defeat Sephiroth to realise she had no need of a knight, and that Cloud wasn't trying to be one, either.

Perhaps it was habit, more than interest, that had Tifa sticking with him afterwards.

The new Seventh Heaven was entirely hers, and she found herself with kids even though she'd had no hand in making them. Marlene and Denzel were both fairly independent, so they weren't as much trouble as they could have been, and Cloud... Somewhere in there, Cloud moved from being classed as a potential love interest to something between a third child, and a baby brother. One who took a lot of looking after.

For all of that, Tifa had no intention of being alone all her life. She started looking around with an eye to something permanent. And she didn't waste her time looking low, either.

Tifa knew she looked good, and her fighting meant her body had kept the lean shape of her teenage years. She didn't get the kind of adulation she'd once received in Nibelheim, but she'd been a big fish in a small pond, there. Here, she was a good-looking woman with her own business, and could expect a decent-looking man with a steady income and assets of his own. Someone settled, who was looking for something permanent of his own.

The first man she'd dated had been a merchant she sometimes dealt with. He'd owned his own store, and had interests elsewhere, besides. He'd flirted with her when she came to buy, took her to fine dinners, and bought her chocolates. It had been everything she'd expected.

Tifa hadn't expected that they'd be mugged on the way home form one of their dates, and that when she dealt with their attackers, he'd stare at her with wide eyes: eyes that were slightly alarmed, as if she were some animal that might turn and attack him at any time. It left an odd, hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wasn't surprised when he didn't ask her out again, although her pride stung when she heard he'd found a new interest not two days later. It was as much a relief to her as it was to him that she did her shopping somewhere else, afterwards.

Tifa's second boyfriend wore a suit, and was involved in banking – or something obscure to do with finance, anyway. Even when he explained it – with the patient air of someone who doesn't expect to be understood – it went over her head. Occasionally Tifa wanted to hit him for that condescending tone. The books at Seventh Heaven balanced perfectly, and that was her doing, but she'd never had a fancy education. But she shrugged it off. He was good-looking, smart, educated and well-off. He took her to the theatre, to art shows, to the best restaurants, and treated her like a queen. It was a far cry from Nibelheim, the Sector 7 slums, and even most of Edge. Tifa could put up with a little condescension.

Then the Remnants came, and Tifa was caught up in the fighting.

She'd called afterwards, with the idea of celebrating. A little condescension turned into a lot, as he explained how he didn't think she fit the kind of image he wanted to project, and that he'd prefer it if she didn't contact him again.

Tifa hung up, and wandered a small way into the Midgar ruins. She found a section with an interesting collection of wreckage, and pounded it into even smaller pieces while picturing her erstwhile 'boyfriend' on the other end of her fists. Perhaps she wasn't ladylike, but she wasn't trash either. He'd known she owned a bar, had known she was a part of AVALANCHE. She'd helped save the world – twice! - and he dared to look down on her for it.

Cloud found her, and held her when her anger turned to tears of hurt feelings and frustration. He'd looked so awkward it made her giggle when she stopped, but he did it anyway. Tifa went back to the bar, and turned her frustration into a marathon cleaning spree. It earned her curses from Cid and Barrett, who claimed they were just trying to have a cold beer after a long fight, and no, they didn't want to shift that cupboard so she could clean behind it. Objections ended when she started flexing her fingers meaningfully.

It gave Tifa a measure of satisfaction to see that some people respected her because of her fighting skills, and not the other way around.

But she decided she should stop looking at those who were too caught up in being respectable. It wasn't the kind of respectability she cared about anyway; she just didn't want some deadbeat who saw her as a potential meal ticket.

But the incident had some unexpected side effects. Cloud suddenly got protective. And she thought that maybe he'd had a word with the others, because they were likewise inclined to give her dates a harder look than before, as well.

Tifa didn't really want anybody who could be scared off so easily, so that was fine with her. She thought perhaps it would be better to date someone else who could hold their own in a fight, too. She dated several WRO soldiers, but none of them lasted long. And the periods in between grew longer.

AVALANCHE had gone up against the toughest opponents in existence. They'd fought monsters and Weapons, ShinRa troopers and Sephiroth himself. They were in a class of their own when it came to fighting. Tifa wasn't impressed by the kind of posturing some soldiers used to impress their girls, and it turned out few soldiers were really comfortable with the realisation their girlfriends could break them in two with little effort. They expected that from Cloud, even from Cid or Barrett, but not from her. One of them had made the mistake of asking her to spar, a few more had seen her break up brawls, and there'd been another failed mugging. None of them stayed long after.

Tifa enjoyed dating. She enjoyed the little gifts and compliments, the dinners that she didn't have to cook herself, the conversation with adults that didn't involve the end of the world or some poor sod moping into his beer about his girl. She'd even enjoyed the theatre. She loved Seventh Heaven, even loved Denzel and Marlene, but there had to be more to life than just running her bar and looking out her foster children.

Running her bar was enough to keep her from thinking on it too hard when the sorry state of her love life got her down, though. Seventh Heaven was as busy as ever, and somehow, after the Remnant incident,the Turks took to favouring it as a watering hole. It was somewhat amusing, given that the first bar of that name had housed the terrorists that opposed them, and the second was owned and run by one of those same former terrorists. But Tifa didn't tolerate fights in her bar, and the Turks liked drinking some place they wouldn't be bothered for what they were. She was just as quick to throw out someone picking a fight with them as anyone else.

Besides, they'd been getting along better since then. If things kept up, AVALANCHE and the Turks would have fought in as many battles together as they had against each other. Tifa was even willing to admit to liking some of them.

Elena was good company, another woman who understood what it was like to be a fighter when most expected women to stand back and let others fight for them. Tseng was quiet and polite. He would stop by only for a glass or two, then leave unnoticed. Reno was equal parts charm and exasperation. Some days, Tifa wanted to hit him; others she just laughed. And she had a soft spot for anybody that could actually get Cloud to say more than two words at a time, or even smile, however small that expression might be.

Rude would usually accompany Reno, a solid presence that probably deterred as many people from taking a swing at his red-headed partner as Tifa's 'no fighting in the bar' rule did. He occasionally stopped his partner from going too far, and provided an extra pair of legs to get him home when drink made Reno's own less than reliable. He was a man of few words, but sometimes he'd sit at the bar and share some of them with Tifa between serving customers. And he didn't drink to excess.

At least, he didn't until tonight. Tifa gave the last call, and looked down the bar to where he sat, nursing the drink she'd poured him half an hour before. She was perhaps a little relieved that whatever had been bugging him, he'd stopped drinking. It was a good half-dozen glasses more than she usually served him though, and Reno wasn't here to help him home.

Even if Reno had been here, she wasn't sure the redhead wouldn't have been the drunker of the two.

She began the routine of closing the bar, but made no effort to shoo him out with the others. She'd ask him if he had a ride, maybe suggest calling someone, or let him sleep it off here. It would be worth it, even if it was only to see Cloud's face in the morning when he came down to find a Turk snoring on the couch. Or maybe the floor – there was no way someone of Rude's size was going to fit on the couch.

Tifa closed the door behind the last customer – bar one – and turned to see Rude climbing to his feet.

"I'm sorry, I'm keeping you," he apologised.

"Sit back down," she ordered, as he swayed just a little. "I've things to do yet before I call it a night, so you're not keeping me from anything. And you're no in any shape to get yourself home." Rude opened his mouth to object, and apparently thought better of it. He sat back down. "Good. Do you want me to call Reno for you?"

"No. He's on a date." Rude stared down at the bar surface as if it held the secrets of the universe as she cleared the tables.

"Oh." Tifa blinked. What kind of woman would Reno date? Or more to the point, what kind of woman would date _Reno_? Was that why Rude was here, drinking alone? Did he think that whoever this was, they'd come between him and his partner?

Another thought occurred to her, and she flushed, telling herself not to be stupid. Reno and Rude were close, but it reminded her a little of the way she and Cloud were close. Except Cloud was less trouble than Reno. Usually.

His glass was still sitting on the bar, half-full. He turned it about in his fingers, making no effort to empty it. The idea of Rude fidgeting was a strange one. "He's on a date with Cloud."

Tifa dropped the glass she was handling.

"Cloud!?"

"Yeah."

Thankfully, Tifa's glassware was of the sturdy variety; it had hit the floor with a solid thunk, but didn't break. She picked it up and placed it on the bar, thinking all the while. "That... makes a surprising amount of sense."

Maybe she was little surprised about Reno, because he certainly seemed appreciative of the female form, but Cloud... he'd rarely seemed to notice any of the girls that set their eyes on him. Even her.

Her lips twisted. Okay, maybe she was a little vain to think he should have noticed her even if he didn't notice anybody else, but she was woman enough to find it soothed her pride just a little to discover he was gay. If anything, she was going to tell him off for not telling her sooner.

Rude was giving her a wary look.

"So have you been sitting there all night, debating whether or not you should tell me?"

Rude looked away. "Maybe."

"It's okay. Cloud would have told me anyway – well, when it occurred to him, which could be several months from now. But it's not like I'm still hung up on him, or anything."

"Oh."

She cocked her head to one side, and moved a little closer. "Were you worried about me?" It was hard to tell what Rude was thinking at the best of times, because he always wore those shades and he'd perfected a stone-faced expression long ago, but right now he had a slight flush on his cheeks. Tifa wasn't sure if it was embarrassment or the alcohol, but she thought it was kind of cute all the same.

And she grinned at the idea of anybody calling the big Turk 'cute'.

"Maybe a little. A woman like you deserves..." Rude's voice trailed off, either because he'd exceeded his quota of words for the day, or because he'd been unable to decided exactly what it was she deserved. And the flush on his cheeks looked a little bit darker.

Tifa moved so she was standing directly in front of him, the bar the only barrier, and leaned forward. "A woman like me? And what do you mean by that?"

Rude looked back up, and even though the shades were in the way, she knew he was looking right at her. Looking at her, and _seeing_ her: a woman who ran a bar in one of the tougher neighbourhoods of Edge, had once run one in an even rougher area, who'd run with terrorists and heroes, and held her own in any fight. Someone who didn't need a man to look after her, but would enjoy a bit of attention all the same.

"You're beautiful."

Tifa's lips parted in surprise, and it was Rude who leaned forward this time. The kiss was gentle, and for some reason, that _didn't_ surprise her. The second kiss was a good deal more enthusiastic, but that was her doing.

Rude didn't make do with the couch or the floor, and she was glad to say alcohol hadn't affected him too much, either. He had big hands, and they were wonderfully strong as they moved over her skin. He wasn't a man to be broken easily, but he wasn't rough, either. He was thorough in his attentions, and when they finally slept, Tifa was very satisfied.

Doubts didn't set in until the next morning, when he started apologising.

"Do you regret sleeping with me, then?" she asked, one eyebrow raised as she gave him a hard look.

"Yes – I mean, no – I mean, not like this!" The big man shifted, still clad in only his pants, and ran a hand over his bald head. "I should've taken you to dinner, or several dinners, or something, first." That little tint of red was back. "I don't want you thinking I don't respect you," he muttered.

Tifa felt something unwind inside her. "As it happens, I'm not working the bar tonight. And I don't have any plans."

Rude blinked at her. His eyes were a lovely shade of green, with a few specks of brown, and she thought maybe she knew why he wore the shades all the time. While she was sure they could look cold enough if he tried, his tough-guy image would be a little dented if everybody could see the rather long eyelashes that framed them. "Would you like to go to dinner with me?"

"That sounds nice. Pick me up at six?"

He nodded, and finished dressing with an almost-imperceptible smile on his lips.

A Turk, Tifa thought. Surely this was the most unsuitable guy she'd dated yet, given that not too many years ago they'd been trying to kill each other. But as she started her day, she was wearing a much broader smile, and there was a spring to her step.

For some reason, she thought this might just work.


End file.
